The coordinates Ken had memorized led him away from the chaotic sounds of battle and into a silent, dead zone of the Iron Forest. Here, the metal trees were twisted into agonizing shapes, and the ground was thick with a black, oily sludge that dampened the sound of his boots.
He slid down a muddy embankment, the heavy toolkit digging into his shoulder, and landed in a clearing that shouldn't have existed. In the center lay the wreckage of a "Vulture-Class" Scout Golem—a piece of tech that had supposedly been decommissioned ten years ago. It wasn't part of the simulation. It was real, ancient junk left behind from the last war, and hidden deep within its chassis was the prize.
Ken dropped the crate. He didn't waste a second. He popped the latches, grabbing the mana-drill. His hands moved with the precision of a surgeon as he located the hairline fracture in the Golem's chest plating.
Three minutes, Ken calculated. Dorian's team will take ten to realize the main target is a bullet sponge. I have three minutes to extract the Heart before the perimeter sensors sweep this sector.
He pressed the drill against the metal. He didn't pull the trigger immediately. Instead, he pulsed his Null-Core. The invisible void inside him latched onto the drill's battery, dampening its acoustic output. When he finally engaged the motor, it didn't scream; it hummed, a low vibration that barely traveled five feet.
The metal groaned and gave way. Ken reached into the chest cavity, the heat of the dormant machinery warming his gloves. His fingers brushed against a smooth, spherical object pulsing with a faint, rhythmic violet light.
The Aegis Heart.
He pulled it out. It was heavy, dense with compressed data and unstable mana. It was beautiful.
"You're voiding the warranty, you know."
The voice came from above—casual, smoky, and laced with amusement.
Ken froze. He didn't look up immediately. He slowly lowered the Heart into the lead-lined box inside his toolkit, snapped the magnetic lid shut, and then stood up, his hand hovering near the drill.
"You can come out," Ken said, his voice stripping away the stuttering weakness of the 'Lazy Prince.' It was cold, sharp, and commanding. "The Seer is scanning the north ridge. The Golden Boy is busy being a hero. You're outside your jurisdiction, Scavenger."
From a rusted gantry thirty feet above, a shadow detached itself. There was no flare of mana to break the fall, no gravity-well spell. Just a soft, calculated thud as a girl landed in a crouch on a pile of scrap metal.
This was Maya Grasberg.
She didn't look like an Academy student. She wore a tactical rig patched together from stolen leather and reinforced carbon-fiber, stained with grease and blast-marks. Her boots were heavy, magnetic-soled stompers, and her dark hair was tied back in a messy, utilitarian knot. On her shoulder, barely visible under the grime, was the scorched sigil of the Grasberg Syndicate—the data-brokers of the Under-Sector.
"Jurisdiction is a word for people who can afford lawyers, Prince," Maya said, straightening up. She wiped a smudge of oil from her cheek, smearing it further. "I'm just here for the view. And the salvage."
She walked toward him. She moved with a feline, predatory grace, her dark eyes flicking from the toolkit to Ken's face. She wasn't intimidated by his tone. In fact, she looked hungry for it.
"The Empress thinks she has this forest locked down," Maya continued, stopping just inches from him. The smell of her was distinct—ozone, stale tobacco, and the sharp, bitter scent of heavy engine oil. "But my father always said: if you want to find the most expensive jewel, look where the rich kids throw their trash. And here you are... the 0.8 failure, performing open-heart surgery on a war machine."
She reached out, her fingers—stained black at the tips from climbing the dirty ventilation shafts—tracing the edge of the toolkit.
"You saw," Ken stated. It wasn't a question.
"I saw a boy with no mana delete a Golem's firewall in ten seconds," Maya whispered. She leaned in, invading his personal space aggressively. "I saw the 'Nothing' inside you, Ken. It made my scanners bleed."
She lunged.
It wasn't an attack to kill; it was a test of reflexes. Her hand shot toward his throat.
Ken remained motionless, anchored to the spot as her hand blurred toward him. He caught her wrist mid-air, his grip iron-hard. He twisted her arm, using her momentum to spin her around and pin her against the rusted flank of the dead Golem.
The impact knocked the breath out of her, but Maya didn't struggle. She laughed—a breathless, delighted sound.
"Fast," she purred, looking back at him over her shoulder. "Too fast for a failure."
"Why are you here, Maya?" Ken asked, leaning in close to keep her pinned. He could feel the heat radiating off her combat vest.
"The Syndicate wants the Heart," she admitted, her eyes locking onto his. "But I think I found something better. I want to know how you did it. I want to know why the Vaelstron heir is hiding in the dirt."
She twisted in his grip, forcing him to shift his weight. In the struggle, her free hand—the one coated in thick, black grease from the descent—grabbed the collar of his pristine white Academy tunic to steady herself. She smeared a heavy, dark stain right along his neckline, grinding the filth into the expensive fabric.
Ken looked down at the stain, then back at her.
"Marking your territory?" he asked dryly.
"Insurance," Maya grinned, her teeth flashing white in the gloom. "Now you have the Under-Sector on you. Try explaining that to your laundry droids."
She shoved him back. Ken let her go, stepping back to the toolkit. He had the Heart, but he had a witness. A witness who belonged to the most dangerous criminal organization in the city.
"If you speak," Ken said, his voice dropping to a low growl, "the Syndicate loses its chance at the Source Code. I'm the key, Maya. If the Empress takes me, she resets the lock. You get nothing."
Maya studied him, her head tilted. She saw the darkness in him then—the calculation, the ruthlessness. It excited her.
"A deal, then," she whispered, stepping closer again. "I keep your secret. I become your ghost. But I need a down payment. I need to know you can handle the pressure."
Before Ken could react, her hand blurred downward. She didn't draw a weapon. She slapped her hand onto the lid of the toolkit.
Click.
She triggered the manual release on the magnetic containment seal.
A high-pitched, piercing whine immediately began to emanate from the box. The Geiger counter on the side of the kit spiked into the red.
"What did you do?" Ken hissed, grabbing the handle.
"I loosened the seal," Maya said, backing away into the shadows, a wicked grin on her face. "That Heart is leaking raw gamma radiation now. If you don't get it to a stabilizer in ten minutes, it's going to blow a hole in the sector. And look..."
She pointed to the sky. The digital grey clouds were dissolving. The simulation grid was shutting down.
"Your brother is coming," Maya said, her voice fading as she climbed back up the rusted gantry with impossible speed. "Let's see if you can lie your way out of a meltdown. Consider it a test drive, Prince!"
"Maya!" Ken shouted, but she was gone, vanishing into the tangled metal canopy like smoke.
The whine from the box was getting louder. It was a drilling sound, painful to the ears.
BOOM.
The ground shook as a golden comet slammed into the clearing ten yards away. The shockwave blew the mist away, revealing Dorian Vaelstron.
He stood tall, his golden armor gleaming under the returning stadium lights. His sword was drawn, the blade humming with power. He looked around the clearing, his eyes scanning for threats, before landing on Ken.
Ken slumped instantly. His shoulders dropped, his face went slack, and he clutched the screaming toolkit to his chest like a terrified child.
Dorian marched forward, his boots crunching on the scrap. He stopped five feet away, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
"The Golem is down," Dorian announced, his voice booming with arrogance. "I told you to stay out of the way, failure. What are you doing this deep in the zone?"
The toolkit whined louder, the sound oscillating wildly.
Dorian paused. He tilted his head. His tactical visor flashed red.
"Ken?" Dorian's voice shifted from arrogant to suspicious. He took a step closer, his sword point lowering toward the box. "What is that sound? And why is the radiation meter on my HUD screaming?"
End of Chapter 12